LOVE AND FRiEDOM 



FRANK TOBiYWINSLOW 






u 



,~4 



■'X 



''\^-^ 



"WW 






GoBTigl!tN"_iiLL3 

CDHCRIGHT DEPOSm 



% 



-^J, 



?--3 



y, 



v\ 



„xx 



V^^ 



y^^ 



V<^-^.^ 



v^ 



POEMS 



OF 



LOVE AND FREEDOM 



BY 



FRANK TOBEYWINSLOW 



6 



Copyright 1919 
By Frank Tobey WInslow. 



ICI.A525775 



JIJH'5^^'^ 



To my friends, Henry M. Pierce and Harris P. 
Williams, each learned in law and literature, I 
respectfully dedicate this volume. 

The Author. 



PREFACE. 

The foreword to a small collection of verses must needs 
be short, else the cart will come before the horse, and be 
larger; so in making this, my debut in the society of my 
readers, I should not do much more than make a bow, say 
a very few words, and retire. 

I have little to say that has not already been said. I 
believe that while poetry should always express the idea, 
it should never sacrifice rhyme or rhythm, for the idea's 
sake. Thought is its father and music its mother, and with- 
out this union, the issue is illegitimate. 

In some of the verses which follow, there may be a 
little of music, and in many, the expressions of the in- 
dividual and not of the multitude, and yet if these ex- 
pressions have come out of the heart of one who has 
experienced the heights and depths of feeling, they may be 
of some value to the reading public. 

To feel deeply is to live fully, and to sing of what we 
see and feel and think, is, I believe, in most cases, better 
than to argue it out in lurid declamation or cold prose. If 
I shall have lightened one heavy heart, or let the warm, 
bright sun into the dark chambers of the soul of one man 
or woman, I feel I shall not have written in vain. 

Frank Tobey Winslow. 



Sweet Marie. 



SWEET MARIE. 



1 Thy bright blue eyes entrancing 
With wit and mischief dancing, 

Sweet Marie, 
Their hypnotic beams enthrall me 
And completely do install me, 
Thy champion and thy knight, 
Till I'm sure I'm only right. 
If for thee! 



Tell me, thou happy fairy, 
Why thou'rt so gay and airy, 

Gay Marie? 
Tell me if thou hast trouble 
And I'll prick it like a bubble 
That now floats in the air, 
And now it is not there. 

And thou'rt free. 



When you seek your couch at eve, 
Pray hear me and believe. 

Kind Marie, 
That for you I'd risk my all, 
For you I'd fight and fall, 
And, pierced by Cupid's dart, 
Pour out the life-blood of my heart. 

All for thee! 

If another thou dost love. 
If he thy heart doth move. 

Sweet Marie, 
Ah, then I wish you well, 
"Every daisy in the dell" 
Will nod its dainty head 
To approve of him instead 

Of poor me! 



The House of Cousin Nettie. 



THE HOUSE OF COUSIN NETTIE. 



From the Island of Manhattan, 

From the acres of Chicagro, 

From the far-off land of Dixie, 

From the happy homes about us, 

Come the kinfolk, full of gladness, 

To the house of Cousin Nettie 

To renew association 

To meet with hearty handclasp 

The friends and kin so many 

In this land of life and laughter 

Far removed from haunts of commerce 

Here in this quiet Northland. 

In this life of toil and duty 

'Tis good to save a moment 

In the fleeting years that pass us 

For such a joyous union 

As the one that is before us. 

Here we sink our vain ambition 

And our striving with each other, 

And think only of the instant 

Fraught with fine and friendly feeling; 

For when old and young together 

Meet and join in happy converse 

Draw from the past its treasure 

From the present its happy outlook; 

Shoot and parry shafts of humor 

Shake their sides with hearty laughter 

This is life and this is living — 

And this is what we came for. 

To you then, Cousin Nettie, 

We dedicate this meeting, 

Feeling surely that its spirit 

Will preside a pleasant memory 

O'er the happy life before you; 

Trusting that its even tenor 

And this clean and well kept mansion 

May tomorrow be unruffled 



The House of Cousin Nettie. 



As the feathers of a gosling 
Or the waters of a mill pond. 
But now, honest, we can profit 
By your life so long and peaceful, 
And from it draw one lesson, 
The lesson for the future, 
The lesson for the peoples, 
The lesson of your lifetime— 
'Tis that of Truth and Justice. 
Now farewell, my Hiawatha, 
With thy convenient metre. 
Which I have lamely copied : 
Back to the Ojibways ! 
Back to the laughing water ! 
Let us hope to meet in heaven, 
If we all do meet hereafter. 
And that the "many mansions" 
Prepared for "those annointed" 
May be as bright and happy 
As the house of Cousin Nettie! 

Watertown, N. Y. Sept. 9, 1905. 



10 On the Death of Theodore Roosevelt. 



THOUGHTS ON THE DEATH OF 
THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 

Gone from us who live 

To join the Dead— He 

Whose name was matchless in the world 

Because of Knowledge, Courage and Power to do 

Things of moment for Mankind; 

He who wrought for all Humanity, 

Leading all in thought and act 

From craven cowardice up to where 

They, too, like him, were fighters for the Right. 

Oh, Roosevelt, how we shall miss thee, 

Thy trenchant pen and clear-toned voice 

Proclaiming human destiny ! 

There is none other to fill thy place 

To bespeak the true America. 

Only, as we, each one, repeat thy clarion cry 

For Justice and Freedom to mankind, 

Can we progress without thee. 

This is our duty to posterity, 

Since thy voice and hand are still in death 

Else thou hast lived and wrought in vain. 

Unless we, too, lead the strenuous life 

And fight, as thou hast fought for Freedom and for Truth, 

Our world will be a chaos 

Of conflicting lusts for power and place 

Destroying all ideals of the race. 

And next, the race itself. 

Let us then, be brave like thee 

And dare to tell to all on earth 

The truth about themselves in rugged phrase, 

Smiting, like thee, their consciences. 

So that, though thou sleepest forever still, 

Thy virile voice and pen 

Shall speak through us 

Still left with life 

The same bold thoughts for the weal of man 

Thou spake so fearlessly! 

Thou would 'st have it so. January 8, 1919. 



Those Words of Ire. 



11 



THOSE WORDS OF IRE. 



Those words of ire, 8 

So hasty spoken 
Of Love's hot fire, 
Were but the token. 

For love, you know, 9 

Is always jealous; 
If 'twere not so; 
He'd not be zealous. 

The hypocrite 10 

Is smooth as oil 
He has no fit, 
He does not boil, 

Because deceit 11 

Becomes him better: 
He fears defeat 
To snap the fetter. 

He does not love; 12 

He cannot feel 
The Power above 
The heart's appeal. 

He will not fight 13 

For Love or Name: 
He has no might 
To carve his fame. 



He's said his worst; 
He does not hide 
His anger's burst; 
He has not lied. 

Though what he shouts 
He does not mean ; 
There are no doubts 
His Love is keen. 

And now he kneels 
And begs your grace— 
A look he steals 
Of your dear face. 

Oh, smile again, 
My Sweet Marie, 
Do not disdain 
To think of me ! 

So hard I'll try 
To never pain you; 
The world I'll buy 
If thus I'll gain you. 

Those words of ire 
So hasty spoken 
Of Love's hot fire. 
Were but the token! 



Far better him, 
Though hot and mad. 
Who speaks with vim, 
Words that are bad. 



12 Thoughts at Dusk. 



THOUGHTS AT DUSK. 



1 I sit alone in the gloaming, 

My thoughts are sad and drear; 
Back into the Past they're roaming, 
That Past which was full of cheer. 

2 Across my mind come the flashes 
Of the sunshine of long ago; 
For an instant its radiance dashes 
Aside the memory of woe. 

3 And then again comes the sadness 
Weighting my heart like lead, 

A truce forever to gladness, 

Ah, me! How good to be dead! 

4 For where is the hope of the morrow 
When Love is fickle and cold, 
When the heart is humble in sorrow, 
When once it was .joyous and bold? 

5 Then my spirit leapt up in pleasure 
To do Love's terrible tasks; 

Then Joy was heaped in full measure, 
More Joy than any man asks, 

6 Then the hours slipped by, all forgotten, 
In the glorious lethe of Love, 

Then rapturous thoughts were begotten 
With the fire that comes from above! 

7 Then the night was day in its splendor, 
For all darkness was gone from the earth ; 
Then Love veas the valiant defender 

Of Happiness, Joy and Mirth. 



Thoughts at Dusk. 13 



8 But now Love is cold and forbidding; 
Gone is the thrill of its power! 

Oh, where is the pleasure of living 
In this dark and miserable hour? 

9 Sunk are my hopes and ambition; 
Blasted the best aims of life! 
Never will Joy have fruition, 
Never will cease the strife 

10 Of the irretrievable present 

With the fading and glorious past, 

Of the thoughts which were lovely and pleasant 

With the thoughts which are to last! 

11 Into my grave I will falter, 

A wretch whose life has been lost! 

Better choked in the throat with the halter, 

Much less happiness cost ! 

12 Go on, bright one, in your glory, 
Obscuring the gloom with your light! 
Yet sometimes think of the story 

Of the one you plunged into night. 



14 My Heaven. 



MY HEAVEN. 



1 Oh what can compare with the thrill of true love, 

As it tingles so full through the veins? 
They may prattle to me of the Heaven above 
My Heaven that legend disdains. 

2 The Heaven for me is the bright kindling eye 

That outspeaks the pure soul within 
Let others gain Heaven when they pine and die, 
I'd lose theirs, mine but to win. 

3 What Heaven is there like the wine of the kiss 

That love steals from the radiant cheek 
What rapture is there like the genuine bliss 
When Love pretends to a pique 

4 And draws back so cunning and shy 

From the fire of the roguish lad's darts 
And pretends all further assaults to defy 
In this glorious battle of hearts? 

5 Yet, let the poor wight start up to go, 

In love there's now no pretense 
The battle's o'er and vanquished the foe 
To that nameless feeling intense. 

6 Now heart to heart they eagerly press 

And drink from each other the wine 
Of the lips and the eye, the throbbing caress. 
Sweeter ne'er came from the vine. 

7 One moment they stand in a tremor of joy. 

The next they may part for all time; 
But that moment is gold all free from alloy 
That moment is Heaven sublime. 



My Heaven. 15 

8 Of such I would my Heaven on earth 

Be composed in plenteous part, 
Away with the grinning folly of mirth, 
Give me the thought of the Heart! 

9 That soul thrilling moment, dear one, came to me 

Last night ere I'd left your side 
In sooth 'twas then you set my soul free, 
'Twas then my apathy died. 

10 may that Heaven came oft to us both 

To set us free on the wing 
A truce to the Heaven of life-sapping sloth, 
The glove to its champions I fling. 

11 The Heaven for me is the bright kindling eye. 

That outspeaks the pure soul within, 
Let others gain Heaven when they pine and die, 
I 'd lose theirs, mine but to win ! 



16 The Dance. 

THE DANCE. 



No repining 

Floor a-shining 

Music's starting 

Now we're darting 

Here and there, 

Everywhere, 

Keeping time 

In a rhyme; 

Feet a-flying, 

Bodies swaying, 

Sorrow dying, 

All a-playing 

In the everlasting maze, 

In the iridescent blaze 

Of the dance 

In the palpitating whirl, 

In the vortex of the swirl 

Of the dance ! 

Holding tight. 

Guiding right 

Maidens fair 

Beauties rare. 

Strength a-wielding, 

Muscles yielding, 

Coming, going; 

Now so swiftly. 

Now so slowly, 

Till the groaning of the floor 

Moves us to waltz no more 

And sit out the last encore 

In the everlasting maze. 

In the iridescent blaze 

Of the dance; 

In the palpitating whirl. 

In the vortex of the swirl 

Of the dance! 



The Dance. 17 



Eyes a blazing, 

Love-thoughts raising, 

Warm hands clasping, 

Voices gasping, 

Voices whispering 

Tales of passion 

Till the music ceases playing 

And the morning light comes straying 

Now so faintly, 

Now so clearly, 

Through the shutters and the door 

And the town's slow-rising roar 

Tells us to play no more 

In the everlasting maze, 

In the iridescent blaze 

Of the dance. 

In the palpitating whirl, 

In the vortex of the swirl 

Of the dance! 

Dawn a-breaking 

Limbs a-quaking, 

Duties fearing, 

Day appearing— 

Care receding, 

Joy a-speeding 

As we work, 

No duties shirk, 

As we're thinking, thinking, thinking, 

Of the glories of the night 

With pleasure so bedight 

Turning darkness into light 

In the everlasting maze, 

In the iridescent blaze 

Of the dance. 

In the palpitating whirl, 

In the vortex of the swirl 

Of the Dance! 

Chicago, December 2, 1912. 



18 The Capture of the Doc. 



THE CAPTURE OF THE DOC. 



The Doc, he sez to me, sez he, 

I'm tired of single life, 
I'm going to hunt around and see 

If I can find a wife. 

Now Doc was awful hard to please, 

He'd had so many chances; 
He just did love the girls to tease, 

And smite them with his glances. 

They flocked around him thick and fast, 

These maidens of all ages, 
Those guileless, and those with a past 

With its many open pages. 

But Doc, he was a wary cuss. 

He vowed no one could catch him; 

If you desired to raise a fuss 
You only had to fetch him 

Right up near a blooming lass 
Who had a winning manner, 

The Doc'd simply let her pass, 
The Doc was from Urbana. 

He knew a blessed thing or two 

About the wiles and graces 
Of girlies vowing to be true 

With honest smiles and faces. 

So Doc, he gave a stony stare 
To all these forward hussies; 

'Tis two it takes to make a pair 
And two to make all fusses. 



The Capture of the Doc. 19 

8 So me to be a single man, 

The Doc, he bravely said ; 
So catch me, woman, if you can, 
You'll only catch me dead. 

9 Now, Kit appeared upon the stage. 

And smiled and won her way 
Right through the Doc's pretense of rage, 
And Kit, she came to stay. 

10 She knew the Doc from childhood up, 

And loved him all the while; 
To Doc and Kit we drain the cup, 
They both have got some style. 

11 The Doc, he was a willing slave 

To Katherine's love and look; 
He thought he'd be so awful brave 
And dodge again the hook: 

12 But Kit, she took the hook, you know, 

And with it hooked the Doc; 
You all can see that this is so, 
They're anchored to a rock. 

13 Now Kit, it's up to you, my dear 

To treat the Doc so fine, 
That you can read your title clear 
To Doc's far western mine. 

14 And Doc, it's up to you to give 

To Kit for her affection, 
So that both of you may live 
In mutual predilection, 

15 A goodly share of love and gold. 

Yet not too much you know; 
For without gold, love soon grows cold, 
The lawyers tell us so. 

16 So here's a glass to Doc and Kit, 

A long and happy life; 
On Kit may sorrow never sit, 
Nor on Doc a heavy wife. 



20 Alone. 



ALONE. 



Alone, alone, alone; Love is dying, Love is dead; 
Away with sighing; away with dread! 

A stone, a stone, a stone they give me 
When I cry for bread! 

Alone, alone, alone ! My heart cries in despair ! 
Away with high thoughts! Away with prayer! 

A bone, a bone, a bone, they leave me, 
And I sit and stare! 



NIGHT AND MORNING. 

Think not that my love is cold 

Because it's sad and pensive; 
'Tis when rash Cupid is too bold, 

'Tis then he's most offensive. 

Because I do not fill your ears 

With empty repetition 
Of Love's bright hopes and Love's sad fears, 

Of Love's deathless ambition, 

'Tis not because I love you less 

Than him whose talk amazes; 
There's more true love in one caress 

Than in vain words and phrases. 

Let others couch their endless love 

In long and prosy story ; 
Yet will this thy heart so move 

As the nameless glory 

Of that Love that suffers long 

When no hope appeareth; 
Of that Love that leaps in song 

And no coolness feareth? 



Alone— Morning. 21 



Tell me, girl, what is this power 

That loses me my head? 
That moves me at this midnight hour 

To start and leave my bed? 

Is't not proof to you more sure 

Of a Love most deep, 
That this long night I must endure 

In a waking sleep? 

And yet 'tis not the wakeful night 
My bursting heart regrets; 

But 'tis gay Cupid's mournful plight- 
That 's why my spirit frets. 

Yet now I'll stop and wait for dawn 
To bring me peace again. 

After night there is a morn— 
A rest from woe and pain. 



All hail ! This genial Winter sun, 

Set in its sky of azure. 
Sends all my night thoughts on the run; 

It is a morn of pleasure! 

Its rays stream in my window bright 

And say to me in sorrow— 
"Arise, disperse the thoughs of night! 

There's joy in a tomorrow!" 



22 Michigan to Ontario. 



MICHIGAN TO ONTARIO. 



Down by the side of the inland sea 

I sit on a Sunday morn; 
My thoughts are roaming wild and free, 

But my hope is yet forlorn. 

I think of the times of long ago 
When happiness was my lot, 

When sadness was an unknown foe 
And harsh care was forgot. 

I look out on the tossing main, 

Resplendent in the sun; 
My eyes roam o'er the watery plain, 

I am looking for someone. 

I'm looking for a maiden lair, 

Who, on a luckless day 
My tender heart-strings dared to tear. 

Took ship and sailed away. 

Far out, where the sea-line meets the sky, 

Her ship I ceased to see. 
And now 'tis vainly that I try 

To bring it back to me. 

The fierce, white sun obscures my sight 
And mocks me when I stare; 

Against my feelings I must fight, 
For she nor ship is there. 

Far off by another shore she sits; 

Maybe she's thinking, too; 
Perhaps, before her vision flits 

The shapes of memory's view. 



Michigan to Ontario. 23 

8 Perhaps, she also strains her eye 

For that she cannot see; 
Perhaps, her wits begin to fly; 
Perhaps, she thinks of me. 

9 Ah, no ! I 'm too presuming, far ; 

Another claims her thought; 
'Tis his name, flashing like a star, 
Whose love this maid has sought. 

10 Tell her for me, ye whispering waves. 

Tell her, ye winged winds, 
He loves you, and the tempest braves, 
As on his sword he binds. 

11 Ah, yes! We both will fight for you, 

My little girl, Marie; 
Oh, give us aught to dare or do, 
We'll do it all for thee! 

12 We've severed many a friendly vow, 

Because of thy dear self; 
But we are firm united now 
And not by fear or pelf. 

13 You have inspired us to aspire, 

You've set the shining mark; 
To you we humbly string the lyre, 
For you've aroused the spark. 

14 That now again we boys are friends, 

Let those who know us swear; 
'Tis your kind face has made amends, 
Our friendship none can tear. 

15 For, when our thoughts go flying back 

To the happy days of yore. 
No one can put us off the track 
That leads to joy once more. 



24 Michigan to Ontario. 



16 Then once again let love have sway 

"With its impartial will ; 
Let's throw all fearful thoughts away, 
To friendship drink our fill. 

17 Love whom thou wilt, sweet queen of earth, 

But know that this is true, 
And I speak not in mocking mirth; 
We, both of us, love you ! 

18 Carry afar, old Michigan, 

My message, sweet and low, 
To her, who sits in a distant land, 
On the shores of Ontario! 



The Caravels. 25 



THE CARAVELS. 

Reminders of the past, 
Three hulks are anchored fast 

In the lagoon; 
'Gainst the darkling shore 
Whence we pull the oar 
They seem from classic lore 

To have come. 

The moon sends down its light 
Across the sheltered bight, 

Revealing all— 
The ancient caravels, 
The cozy, wooded dells. 
The lapping wave that swells 

Against the wall. 

As we scan the decks 
Of these phantom wrecks 

With eager eye: 
Don't we seem to see 
That glorious company 
Which, so bold and free, 

Dared to die? 

Though not meeting death. 
Far from their native heathy 

Still they dared 
The dark seas to breast. 
Nor did they ever rest 
From their lonesome quest, 

111 prepared 

For their journey blind 
Blown by the cruel wind 

That came from home; 
Till they leapt on shore 
Of San Salvador 
And to God did pour 

Glad welcome. 



26 The Caravels. 



6 E'en now we see that one 
Before our search is done, 

Along the deck; 
Him whose spirit brave 
Brought them across the wave, 
Who taught them not to rave 
When all seemed wreck. 

7 Ah, Columbus, for 'tis he 
That now we seem to see 

Looking grand; 
Thou art he who came 
Not for earthly fame 
But the wilds to tame 

To fairer land ! 

8 Alas! a hideous cloud 
Precursor of a crowd 

Hurtling up the sky 
Comes athwart the moon; 
Dark now is the lagoon, 
The storm '11 be on us soon. 

Let us fly! 

9 As we ply the oar 
Towards the wooded shore, 

We look back. 
Three ships are all we see; 
Where is that company 
So bold and gay and free? 

Alas ! Alack ! 

10 'Twas but a phantom crew! 
They've took wings and flew 

With the storm. 
Back to their spirit land. 
Back to the golden strand, 
All the ghastly band, 

Safe from harm. 

11 AVe too, take our feet 
Back to the dusty street 

With its roar; 
Leaving the caravels 
Rolling on the swells 
Of the wave that wells 

'Gainst the shore. 



My Queen. 27 



MY QUEEN. 



She sits not on a throne of gold 
To rule and sway mankind; 

She has not hoarded wealth untold, 
A fawning court to bind. 

She does not wear the jewels rare, 
Bequeathed from every land; 

Her pallid brow knows naught of care 
With its bewrinkling band. 

She does not know the pomp and show 
Of a gay and glittering court; 

She does not hear the mutterings low 
That make the feelings smart. 

She has not at her beck and call 
A thousand cringing slaves; 

No kinsmen, swift to plot her fall 
In secret woods and caves. 

No cares of state perplex her mind 
And rob her lids of sleep ; 

For her no navies breast the wind 
Across the treacherous deep. 

And yet my queen's not less a queen 
Though lacking crown and gold; 

Her eyes alone have 'nough of sheen 
To make the coward bold. 

By sweet and gentle words she rules 

All fortunate to know, 
And not by precepts of the schools 

Laid down just "so and so." 



28 My Queen. 

8 And when she lightly trips along 

In mull and leghorn hat, 
He who'd not break out in song, 
Must blind be as the bat! 

9 And when her blue eyes turn to mine, 

In soft and pleading gaze. 
Ah, then ! What joy divine. 
What everlasting praise, 

10 Can justice do to thoughts so true 

That leap gay in my heart! 
Alas, that there are words so few 
My feelings to impart! 

11 Oh, may you never cease to reign 

Over my lonely life; 
For you each tingling nerve I'll strain. 
For you is all my strife! 

12 Let others bow to queens by birth 

Who rule by gold and place, 
Who seek dominion o'er the earth 
With their decaying mace. 

13 To none of these so proud I yield 

One jot of 'legiance vile! 
Let me stand out in open field 
And not in a defile ! 

14 And there, with my head upturned 

To blazing sun and sky, 
I shall have then the lesson learned 
These false queens to defy. 

15 Then, by that ever-shining sun. 

Then, by that azure sky 
I shall plight my oath to one. 
For her to do and die ! 



My Queen. 29 

16 And that one, sweet girl, then know 

Is no one less than you; 
Methinks I see you coming slow 
Under the sky so blue. 

17 And now humbly at your feet I kneel, 

My love for you— how keen! 
Oh heed this heart of heart's appeal, 
My lovely, radiant queen. 

18 Bid me arise, a valiant knight 

To do your service grand; 
Fill me with spirit for the fight 
As on my feet I stand! 

19 And then I'll do a curious thing 

'Thout fear or false alarms; 
My sword and shield away I'll fling 
And clasp you in my arms! 

20 And thus my lovely queen and I 

Will win the fights of life, 
And thus the devil's wiles defy— 
Be conquerers in the strife! 

21 And yet to me you'll ever be 

The queen of my desire; 
My soul will mount aloft as free— 
Indeed it will mount higher. 



30 Hope in Despair. 



HOPE IN DESPAIR. 



Plunged am I in blackest woe, 
Darkness everywhere I go, 

Murkiness profound; 
Not a ray of heavenly light 
To disperse this hideous night 

Gathering round. 

Groping blindly on and on, 
Hope and courage almost gone, 

Joy disturbed; 
Gone the sprightliness of mirth, 
Peace no longer on the earth 

For me perturbed. 

Perish all my noblest aims 
Together with the lesser fames 

Of the crowd! 
No more I seek the laurel wreath, 
For me the only joy is death, 

My spirit 's cowed ! 

Tell me, philosopher so cool 
Why you deem that man a fool 

Who stakes his all 
On the cards that speak of love, 
Love that comes from Heaven above, 

To retrieve his fall? 

Ah, no! They are not fools 
To disregard the gab of schools 

And plunge in; 
Far better to have dared 
Than that thy life be spared 

For endless sin. 



Hope in Despair. 31 



6 Yet, since I saw thee last 
Three whole days have passed 

Of dreary rain. 
In sooth, it seems to me, 
God's sympathy to be 

With my pain. 

7 As these days were dark and drear. 
Bedewed with Heaven's tear, 

So profuse; 
That thus my hours have been 
Since you I last have seen, 

Swear my muse! 

8 Yet the sky '11 not ever weep, 
Mankind in woe to steep, 

There is a morn; 
And, in the radiant dawn 
Joy leaps up like a fawn, 

Love is bom! 

9 Oh, dispel this awful gloom! 
Give my tethered spirit room. 

Sweet Marie! 
Shine on my clouded heart 
Thy glorious love impart 

To poor me! 

10 Then my spirit will arise 
When I gaze upon thine eyes 

Speaking love; 
Then naught shall curb my power, 
Then no dark skies shall lower 

From above; 

11 Then, aided by thy might, 
I will win a future bright 

For us both; 
Men will speak our names with praise. 
This earth know grander days 

For our worth' 



32 Love and Law. 



LOVE AND LAW. 



'"Tis not to be," 
She said to me, 

And quoted me the law; 
"What's law to me? 
Love should be free; 

I do not care a straw." 

"I love you true," 
She said to me, 

And gazed at me so sweetly; 
' ' Oh, then, why wait ; 
Oh, why be late 

To yield to me completely?" 

"By a rope I'm bound 
Completely round; 

The minister did tie it." 
"Two tied in one 
Can be undone. 

You've only now to try it." 

Life's meant for love. 
Best treasure-trove 

For us poor stumbling mortals; 
Why wear the chains? 
Law, Love disdains, 

And pushes through the portals 

To a life of joy 
Without alloy 

It leads in reckless measure; 
Why close your eye. 
When you can buy 

The best and highest pleasure? 



Love and Law. 33 



Speak out your soul, 
Mark out your goal, 

And run your race with spirit; 
Come, cut your thongs, 
Life to love belongs, 

And so, why need you fear it? 

Come, come to me. 
And then you'll see 

That life is all for lovers 
So live and love 
That Heaven above 

It's true ideal discovers. 

And in my arms. 
Away from harms 

You'll find true love eternal; 
And in our Kiss, 
And in our bliss, 

Our joy will be supernal! 



34 Lines to a Lassie from Ayr 

LINES TO A LASSIE FROM AYR ON PRESENTING 
HER WITH A COPY OF BURNS' POEMS. 

The Past is dark with thoughts of gloom, 

I will not look upon it; 
To restrospect would spell my doom, 

And spoil this little sonnet. j 

My life is full of thoughts of joy ' 

Of every kind and nature; \ 

Which now all gloomy thoughts destroy— t 
I've found a lovely creature, 

Who rouses hope and love and life 

Through all my wakened being; 
Who spurs me keener for the strife, 

My fettered spirit freeing. 

And you, dear Helen, are the one 

Who's giving me this pleasure; 
Never more I'll be alone, 

Nor wanting love's full measure. 

You've come to shine upon my heart. 

And make it warm and tender; 
For you I'll try to do my part 

In being your defender. 

Not that you need defense, my dear 

For aught you've undertaken; 
'Tis only to dismiss all fear 

You'll ever be forsaken 

By one who in his deepest soul 

Has learned in truth to love you 
Who's set you as his shining goal. 

For there are none above you. 

And now from me accept this book 

Of Bobby Burns' verses. 
And pray, dear, do not overlook 

His love-thoughts or his curses. 

But when you read them, one and all. 

And on them ponder duly, 
Remember me whose soul's in thrall 

The one who loves you truly. 



To My New Found Friend— Norma. 35 



TO MY NEW FOUND FRIEND— NORMA. 

1 Lovers may tell the old, old tales 

Of that which fills their hearts, 
Lovers may plight the old, old vows, 
Cupid may shoot his darts 

2 Piercing these hearts of woman and man 

Causing the utmost pain 
Making the wounds that never heal, 
That leave an indelible stain. 
? A stain that ever lingering, stays 
Until the two are made one 
Not even the bond that ties them secure 
Not even the radiant sun 

4 Is able to rid their life of the blot 

Put there by the all jealous Boy 
He laughs long and loud as he hides and he looks, 
For he who makes can destroy. 

5 Oh no, as for me, away with this pest! 

Away with his arrows that sting! 
Away with the havoc and wreck of his course! 
Away with the sorrows they bring! 

6 For, looking above this travail and woe, 

This scene of love and despair, 
My eyes rest upon a beautiful sight— 
A maiden exquisite and fair. 

7 No love vows to her, so strong do I pour 

No hopes does she hold out to me 
And yet in her eyes so honest and blue 
As the blue of the great wide sea— 

8 I read the message, for which my heart yearns, 

The message of friendship and life 
It comes to me almost broken in grief 
And all worn out with the strife, 

9 And says, I think, if I read it aright 

"Do not break, do not bend 
You have found, sir, in the midst of your night 
The best gift of God— A true friend!" 



36 Prospect. 



LINES SUGGESTED BY A PAUSE AT THE STATUE 

OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, IN 

LINCOLN PARK. 

1 To thee, who sits enthroned in majesty 
Of bronze 

Here in the western world, 
Far from thy haunts of birth 
And plenteous life^ 
Thine eyes turned toward thy 
Former home, we bring 
Our wreaths and homage. 

2 On this beauteous day 

Aglow with spring's new light, 
A-quiver with the bursting 
Buds and blades, we of the 
Sordid west, pause at thy 
Figured shape, and bow in 
Reverence to thy royal mind, 
Illumining for all men since 
Thy earthly death, the firmament; 
To thee, and to thee alone we 
Kneel, Oh Shakespeare! 



April 23, 1911. 



PROSPECT. 



On yester-eve thy thoughts turned back 

To the day of days for thee 
When thou and thy first love joined hands 

Under the nuptial tree. 

Then all was bright and all was fair 

The future outlook grand 
It was then that thou wast indeed 

The happiest in the land! 

The youth around so glad and gay 

Who helped to see you wed ; 
Of these today some still are left 

And some are with the dead. 



Prospect. 37 

4 And him who stood so fine and strong 

And gave his vows so true 
He too has gone the lonesome road 
Without his girls and you. 

5 'Tis right that on this wedding day 

You turn your thoughts back home 
And think so deeply of the past 
And brush away life's foam. 

6 But now, my dear, the day has gone. 

Another day is here 
Another one now claims your thought, 
The dawn is bright and clear. 

7 He comes to you and clasps your hand 

And looks into your eye. 
He whispers words of love and hope, 
The words that never die. 

8 He tells you not to weep nor mourn 

Nor think more of the past, 
But only of the time to come 
Ah, yes, the die is cast! 

9 No longer can we fight our fate, 

It's fixed it seems, though slow, 
That on some future glorious day 
When whispering breezes blow, 

10 We too, may stand beneath the tree 

That makes for love and life 
And there to plight eternal vows 
To live as man and wife; 

11 To live not selfishly for self 

But each for the other's joy. 
And the sun will shine and the world will laugh 
At our happiness without alloy. 

12 Tonight it's you who comes to me 

Through spaces far between 
And fills me with these happy thoughts 
My own, my life's real queen! 



38 To the One Who Became My Wife. 



TO THE ONE WHO BECAME MY WIFE. 



1 To you tonight my feelings turn 

The chosen one of all; 
For you alone my heart doth burn, 
For you my senses call. 

2 To hold you closely in my arms, 

That is my heart's desire; 
To gaze upon your many charms, 
And kindle passion's fire. 

3 And yet 'tis not base passion's power 

That draws me near to thee; 
'Tis not the feeling of an hour, 
But of eternity! 

4 The love that knits our souls in one 

Knows neither time nor space, 
Dan Cupid no one can out run 
In such an honest race! 

) Together we will climb the hill, 

The heights of peace and love- 
Yes, we'll not pause until 
The One who is above 

6 Shall say to us at even-time: 

"Well done my faithful pair." 
Oh ! This were happiness sublime 
Without a trace of care! 

7 That day will come for you and me, 

If we deserve its joy. 
Oh, may our actions ne'er so be 
It's advent to destroy! 



Doubt. 39 



DOUBT. 



In thy brown eyes gazing 
Is born a love amazing, 

Most intense; 
So that my thought goes ranging 
Never fickle, never changing, 

(No offense?) 

To a sweet and gentle maiden 
With precious bounties laden 

Of face and form; 
Will she spurn my loving verses 
And meet my praise with curses 

In a storm? 

Nay, do not treat me coolly 
Do not be unduly 

Vexed and mad! 
How can you so deny me? 
Will you still defy me, 

Me, so sad? 

Sad for just a token 
Of esteem unbroken 

From your heart; 
Sad for your glance of kindness. 
To relieve the awful blindness. 

Of my part! 

For I fear to play the lover 
And later to discover 

Another one supreme; 
On account of this I ask you 
'Tis for this I task you 

With this theme. 



40 Who and What Is Shef 

6 'Tis too true, your beauty 
Has lost for me my duty 

To do right; 
I think not of the sorrow 
Of a dim far-off tomorrow 

In your sight. 

7 I think you will not spurn me 
And swift and quickly turn me 

From my course; 
At least a hearing grant me, 
E'er others swift supplant me 

By love's force. 

8 Till then my heart is beating 
For the joyous, gladsome meeting 

Of us twain 
Till then I will be fearing 
The fateful answer nearing 

With its joy or pain! 



WHO AND WHAT IS SHE? 

Pinker far than pink June roses 
That a summer sun discloses 

To our view, 
Are her cheeks of alabaster, 
Where the color rushes faster 
Than a truant from his master 

In a stew! 

Bluer than the vault of Heaven 
On a shining day at eleven. 

Are her eyes; 
Whiter than the pearls of ocean 
Are the teeth which claim devotion 
Almost glowing with emotion 

Without guise. 



Who and What Is She? 41 

Fairer far than Grecian maiden 
With languorous incense laden, 

Is her form. 
Bright as molten gold her tresses 
Which the glorious Sun-God blesses, 
Or the playful wind caresses 

In a storm. 

Yet, 'tis neither forms nor faces 
With their thousand witching graces, 

That men love; 
'Tis the pure and gentle spirit 
That all the good inherit 
That wins the lasting merit 

From above. 

And that she is so gifted 
That her beauteous life is lifted 

'Bove the crowd, 
Tell my muse, in wondrous story; 
Tell of her radiant glory, 
Tell, till thy hair is hoary, 

Be not cowed. 

Tell of her generous nature 
How she loveth every creature 

That is born; 
How her happy wiles and graces 
Have wreathed in smiles our faces, 
Have made naught of serious cases, 

Of hopes forlorn. 

Tell of it all at leisure 
Or tell in hasty measure, 

'Tis the same; 
What cares her truest lover 
So long as love can move her 
To write in skies above her 

His dear name. 

For her he runs life's races, 
For her he'll win chief places 

In the strife. 
'Tis hers the soul that guides him 
So that whate'er betides him 
Always his time he bides him 

To know life. 



42 The Kiss. 



THE KISS. 



It was your lips of red 
A' quiver with emotion 
That lost for me my head 
And gave you my devotion. 

It was your willing eye 

That made me seize your hand, 

And timidity defy 

So I could near you stand. 

And as I bent my head 

And brought yours close to mine, 

All hesitation fled— 

You were to me like wine, 

Which, sparkling in the light, 
Arrests my sober thought, 
And makes my senses fight 
As never they have fought. 

And as your warming breath 
Came mingling with my own 
I cared no more for Death- 
No more was I alone. 

And as our lips did meet 
In one long loving kiss. 
What joy is more complete— 
What is a greater bliss? 

For a moment was I dead, 
Dead to all but you; 
Then all my senses fled. 
Only my heart beat true. 



Death. 43 



And when we kissed once more 
And many many a time, 
Joy filled me o'er and o'er 
And Happiness sublime. 

Your Kisses were the draught 
That set my Soul on fire; 
Their liquor that I quaffed 
These verses did inspire. 

Oh, may they come to me 
To cheer my lonely life 
Again, as warm and free; 
With them I'll win the strife! 



DEATH. 



The end of heart-beats, the stoppage of the breath. 

The fading out of sight and taste and sound, 

The sinking of the mind into unconsciousness, 

A prelude to eternal sleep— 

This is universal death. 

Shall we again awaken on a distant morn, 

A long drawn-out existence to pursue 

In endless aeons of the maze of time. 

Renewing the struggle for excellence, 

Eternally with all the countless dead, 

Enthroning Ambition beyond the grave, 

Which often marred our earthly life; 

Or, falling to the deadening plane 

Of an unwieldy Socialistic State, 

Where the greatest dares not outstrip the least, 

Where not even Man is ruler, but where the mass 

Lives, moves, acts, and rules in sickening unison, 

Neither by Man nor by the People ruled 

Our lives to be the same? 



44 Death. 

Or shall we rather sink to final sleep, 

As reckless and uncaring for the act 

As when at night we lay our weary frame 

Upon a downy bed and glide away 

To that dark and sweet oblivion, 

Which was our natal heritage. 

And which encompassed us when we were not, 

For countless periods before our birth? 

Having run with honor our life's full course, 

Let us have eternal rest. 

Of what use, then, is life to me, 

A small and minute speck of time, 

Snatched from the womb of Eternity? 

AVork half-finished, burdens and sorrows borne— 

For these is there no recompense? 

Kind deeds bring their own rewards; 

Sorrows have their counterpart of joys; 

Work, half-done, is finished by Posterity. 

Ah ! That 's the stimulus for life. 

That, each day, we strive our utmost here on earth, 

Both draining for ourselves the cup of Joy, 

And building for those to come an edifice 

That neither Time nor Change can crumble nor dissolve, 

But which shall stand, a shining beacon-light 

To countless coming ages and hordes of men. 

Knowing we have thus well and fully wrought. 

When Time strikes with solemn tone the final stroke, 

We can then drowse away into Eternity, 

Glad of endless sleep. 

January 30, 1909. 



Present and Future. 45 



PRESENT AND FUTURE. 

Oh, what are we coming to? 

Oh, where are we going to ? 

When to drink or have drink is a crime! 

When to drink soft drinks is sublime! 

Oh, what are we coming to ? 

Oh, where are we going to ? 

Oh, what are we coming to ? 

Oh, where are we going to ? 

When some said Man was Divine, 

We were fighting Beasts from the Rhine ; 

Oh, what are we coming to ? 

Oh, where are we going to ? 

Oh, what are we coming to 'I 

Oh, where are we going to? 

It remains for the clergy to tell 

If we are all going to h 1, 

Oh, what are we coming to ? 
Oh, where are we going to ? 

Oh, what are we coming to ? 
Oh, where are we going to ? 
Man is just as ready to fight 
As when he first saw the light, 
Oh, what are we coming to ? 
Oh, where are we going to ? 

Oh, what are we coming to '] 
Oh, where are we going to? 

I'm sure I don't care a d n bit 

So long as I make myself fit, 
Oh, what are we coming to ? 
Oh, where are we going to ? 

Oh, what are we coming to ? 
Oh, where are we going to? 
So long as we look for the Light, 
So long as we fight for the Right, 
Who cares what we are coming to? 
AVho cares where we are going to? 




^-*--Hfs 



sy^"' 



t>-^ 



\ 



fx 



A ,%•><% 



•"^ , f 



